


Preconception

by GeneralIdiot



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Even though it's not slow in the beginning, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hacker!Connor, Hank is Hank, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Pre-Revolution, Slow Burn, first fic, fluff with plot, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-13 16:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralIdiot/pseuds/GeneralIdiot
Summary: In which Connor is a hacker and a natural in fuck-ups, Hank just wants to drink his goddamn whiskey, Gavin Reed is so hot he has his own solar system and RK900 is called Niles cause he would walk 500 miles for that ass.





	1. Conjuction

Connor waits in the bar. There is nothing new in waiting in places like this and he is patient enough not to start fidgeting with his coin while glancing at the entrance door every few minutes. He is used to this. He is quite used to every bit of nerve-wracking detail of this monotonous side-effect of his plan.

To the mop rhythmically hitting the floor again and again. To the muzzy hours of listening to the ticking of the old worn-out clock on the top of the shelf between the bottles that Jimmy loves so much. If Connor would form an opinion about it, he would say that it is truly hideous. He’s seen it enough times to believe that this word describes it the best and he is quite fond of sticking little labels on things in order to make them seem to be less complicated. So he tags them, categorize them in his mind and most of the times share it with the world. But now, it is not time for his foolish little games, because opinions lead to questions and questions lead to lies. Quiet is the logical option.

He knows the schedule well enough. He comes in, orders a drink - for the sake of looking like he is there for the same thing as everybody else. He stays for a few hours watching, soaking up some new information dropped by the people sitting around him, then he leaves. It is a neat little procedure and he hates to break it - as people tend to hate to change their habits -, but it’s just what he needs right now.

So Connor patiently waits in a booth hardly looking up to the entrance, only when he feels like it is unbearable to sit still. When he finally hears the creacking of the door, he jumps a little but the man stepping inside just stares right trough him and sits down next to the counter.

Connor knows that he can’t approach him, not yet. Simple details like a few minutes make it easier to the other to believe that he has no ulterior motives. A smartly dressed young man hitting on a burn out cop is fishy on its own, but stepping right next to him without a second though is downright alarming. He doesn’t actually understand these unspoken social rules but he doesn’t question it either because he only gets anwers that are even more complicated than the question itself. So he waits a few minutes to go by then gets up from his booth and walks next to the man.

The man doesn’t even glance at him, just drowns his face in a glass of whiskey and Connor is too determined to take it a sign to fuck off.

“Your finest whiskey on the rock”, he says to the bartender. “Same to my company. It’s on me.”

The man doesn’t look at him, he continues to ignore him as he stares right at Jimmy with his half-empty glass in his hand and then slowly forming the words he finally speaks.

“I didn’t know it is a twink-friendly area nowadays”, he mutters.

Jimmy just shoots an entertained expression as he places the two new glasses in front of them. Connor lifts it to his mouth as he starts analyzing the Lieutenant. He already found out from public document the most he needed to know. Hank Anderson, a 52 yeal old police lieutenant, divorced and drunk his ass off in the past 2 years in this very bar. Several disciplinary warning and penalites on his account. A dog named Sumo and a great chance of being the Connor’s goose with the golden egg.

“Don’t worry. My mother previously gave me her permission to visit this bar.”

Connor is usually not great with jokes but this one seems to achieve its objective because it raises a tiny smile from the lieutenant. He lets out a shaky breath - just enough to cool his mind down a little, but not so much that the other man can hear it. His plan depends on his self-confidence, the portayal of a cocky and ambitious young kid who has to many daddy issues to control himself. He needs to be that even though he really has no previous experience being flirtatious and all. He knew he had to be prepared so he memorized at least a thousand different pick up lines and even more method of non-verbal representation of interest.

Still, he goes with sarcasm. Somehow that’s more natural.

The lieutenant finally glares at him and probably tries to dissect every little detail of his appearance. Connor wears a white shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbow and dark jeans. He looks neat, but comfortable. He also doesn’t look like someone who belongs to a bar like this and the Hank is likely to be aware of it. But he doesn’t question it. He probably has already seen stranger things.

“Alright, kid. I don’t know what you want but you should look for it somewhere else.”

Rejection seemed to be almost inevitable when he planned all this little play so Connor is not suprised by the tone of the sentence. He just puts his most innocent smile on his face and try not to sound desperate.

“All I intend to find is a good company to spend my time with”, he says.

“You have a pretty fucked up standard if you think I am good company”, the lieutenant grumbles as he downs the remaining whiskey. “Choosing a grumpy old man who is stiff enough to bite your dick off is not an idea normal people have.

Connor just shrugs his shoulders and turns a little bit towards the lieutenant. His knee bumps to the other man’s. He gets a curious look in return.

"I am not fond of normal things”, he says.

And then he finally gets the attention he has been fighting for because the lieutenant orders another turn and neglects grabbing his coat and jumping to the entrance door at the earliest opportunity. Somehow Connor feels a little warm inside his chest and he tries not to concentrate on the fact that this is the first time he may actually be getting some honest interest from another person for his witty personality and not only for his looks. This is new and truly thrilling.

“So”, the lieutenant starts.“What does a fragile boy like you do in a filthy place like this?

"I was waiting for someone. Not anymore, it seems.”

Hank rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, that was cheesy ”, he barks, and Connor find the sound oddly endearing. “Business or enjoyment?

Connor decides to make a bold move and puts his hand on the other man’s knee.

This is really not what he planned but he starts to enjoy the situation even though it may not lead to the way he needs it. Still the temptation is unusual and as he leans closer he can smell the cheap cologne of the lieutenant and see the wrinkles on his massive hands. He probably could break his think neck in one gritty movement and the clear plausibility of this fact starts to send electric jolts trough Connor’s spine.

"Can’t it be both?” he breathes and watches as the other man tries to make out the words.

He doesn’t pull away but his features stills for a moment before he starts to speak again.

“If you talk like you have a stick up in your ass, it probably can’t.”

That’s the point when Connor’s confidence falters and as the wounded animal he tends to act like, he makes the mistake of biting instead of compromising. Old habits die hard, even though he should know better now.

“You seem to be confident in reading my intentions.”

“I’m a detective”, he bites. “That’s what detectives do.”

Naturally, Connor stand up to feel like he can be at least little bit intimidating as the other man watches him move. His mouth falls into a tiny smile as he takes the man’s whiskey and downs it in one swift move. The Lieutenant stays silent trough it. It is oddly reassuring.

“Interesting”, he says as he puts the glass down. “I suppose you are also off duty considering the amount of alcohol you have already consumed. Otherwise I suppose it would be quiet irresponsible of you. Your superior would surely not favor it.”

This is a clear-as-day teasing and Connor couldn’t be more proud of himself for it. As for the lieutenant - well, he is less pleased. He stands up more quickly than he should be able to and grabs Connor’s collar as he pulls him next to the nearest wall. He slams him to it and Connor tries to grab something not to lose balance but his options are limited so he just grasps the lieutenant’s shirt in his hands, knuckles going white by the effort. He should be suprised, he should be panicking even. He just forgets it completely how to be that as his half-hard dick starts to demand more and more attention.

Not a lot of people stare at them, they must be be used to it already. Not even Jimmy bats an eye. Is it an ordinary behaviour of the man?

“Alright, Smartass”, the lieutenant grumbles to his face and Connor’s limbs start to give up. “Are you playing to get arrested or you just have a loose mouth?”

Connor would like to say something smart. Something witty and cheerful, something that will ease the hardened atmosphere around them but he would also like to get on his knees right now and suck the life out of the man in front of him. It is totally irrational and he doesn’t actually understand where all this is coming from but the heat is there and it stays in his abdonmen as the lieutenant presses closer.

“So?"he asks and Connor, for the first time in his life decides to go with his instincts instead of calculating every single outcome of his feasible moves.

"Pull out your gun and find it out”, he says without a beat. “Officer.”

 

***

 

He doesn’t actually know how he gets pressed to a bathroom stall - it happens very fast, clothes and limbs all around his vision -, but the next thing he realizes is that he is half bending, elbows on the stall’s door as Hank buries his cock balls deep inside of him. He tries to keep it quiet, he really does, but the man behind him stubbornly keeps a steady rythim that forces little moans out in the stale, musky air.

“Jesus”, Hank grunts, as he runs his fingers in Connor’s disheveled hair.

Connor chokes on another moan and he really wishes that he was able to turn around for a kiss but that would be far too personal and it is something he doesn’t want to get involved in right now. Instead Hank grabs a handful of hair and pulls him closer to kiss the soft skin under his ear, hand crawling to his mouth so Connor can suck on his finger. It is wet and messy and over far too soon.

Connor finishes on the door - Jimmy will not be happy, he thinks as he scratches the wood with one hand -, and Hank rides out the last waves of orgams as he tangles his and Connor’s free hand together in front of his abdonmen. Hank tries to keep Connor on his legs, a gesture that his knees really appreciate, but his head hurts and there is a clinking noise coming from Hank’s trousers pooling around his ankles. He slides down to the dirty tiles and reaches for the little badge feeling Hank’s glare at his nape. Connor stares at the series of numbers at the back of the badge as he hold it in one hand, trying to memorize it. He almost forgot what he came for.

“I think it’s yours, Detective”, he says as he offers the little plate, voice a little bit harsh.

Hank takes it and really tries to keep his remaining dignity as he pulls the trousers up to his thights.

“Sure thing”, he murmurs and Connor is oddly proud of himself as fixes his own jeans.

“I hope my behaviour won’t entail any further investigation”, he jokes and Hank’s shoulders slump a little as the tension of the situation leaves his body.

“Don’t worry, kid, you get away with a warning this time.”

Connor would like to say something, but he got what he wanted and it’s really not the best idea to further complicate this situation.

Hank stands in front of him like he’s just ran a marathon - which is quite a good look on him, Connor decides - and maybe, after everything is settled he will come back to him. Ask for his phone number. Go on a real date, get to know each other. Maybe after everything is settled and Connor can finally fight back his demons, he will do just that. He likes to think he will be able to do that.

But right now, he steps outside the stall leaving a confused Lieutenant behind.

“I was really nice to meet you, Detective”, he says and flashes a really rare smile of his for a goodybe.

“Wait!’ Hank grabs after him, keeping him in place as he moves closer. "Tell me your name.”

Connor swallows not really knowing if it’s a safe thing to do, but then again, he is really illogical today so he just leans into Hank’s space, giving him a tiny kiss on the cheek.

“Connor”, he breathes.

Hank nods then fixes his shirt again and leaves.

A sudden loss perches on Connor’s shoulders as he follows the man outside and passes him when he goes outside of the bar. The weather is particularly cold and it soothes his aching joints. He starts to head home. Tomorrow, he will have a lot of work to do.

He hopes til then he can calm his racing heart.


	2. String

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank really wanted a good day for once. He just doesn't expect a case with a stupid funky hacker boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments guys, I really appreciate it. I hope you will enjoy this chapter too. I smell plot incoming.

Hank is almost at the station before noon and he considers it an achievement. He starts the day quite good. His favourite coffee shop has given him a discount and Sumo did not shit all over the hallway like he usually does when Hank wakes up from an alcohol soaken hazardous night, what is satisfying. Or maybe it's just that he had the best fuck of his life the evening before. Who knows?

God, does he feels good as he gets out of the car. He generally doesn't have patience for things like listening to the shit that comes out of Reed's mouth, or Chen's irritating cackling but today he feels a bit more tolerating. If he's lucky maybe he even gets a relatively calm case with Miller who is always a bit more ambitious than Hank so the hard work falls into good hands.

Shit hits the fan when he steps into the bullpen and everything is drowning in chaos. He really doesn't know what's happening and to be honest he doesn't actually care either but Fowler's piercing look and his colleges' curses around the computers give him a feeling that he actually should. Even Reed looks distressed, and that's son of a bitch floureshes in chaos.

"Anderson, come here" Fowler shouts from the other side of the bullpen and he gives in with a quiet curse.

"Shit, Captain, the one time I come in on time hell breaks loose. Maybe next time I'll stay home”,

"Back off with the attitude, Anderson", he says, as he turns away from the computer one of the IT guy works on so fucking maniacally. "We have enough problem already. Look, I know it's not your division but you need to interrogate a suspect”,

"Of what?"

"A kid fucking paralyzed the whole system of the DPD. No access to databases, no previous reports, nothing at all”,

"I was always the fan of the paper form anyway", Hank chuckles as he watches the poor guy fighting with the servers of the DPD.

With sweat and tear all over his face, he really looks like he's in a battle for his dignity.

"Then I will do your dismission on just that", Fowler hollers and for a moment Hank thinks he really fucked up this time as one little vein tries to break out from under the thick skin on the captain's forehead. "Would you please fucking do what I ask of you without a comment?"

Hank is not certain if he is capable of that but he really wanted to have a good day and goddamn it if he won't do his best to get that.

"Sure", he sighs.

Fowler just nods, amusingly calmly as he realizes that Hank's not gonna worsen his situation.

"The suspect is in interrogation room one. You have everything about him on your desk", he finishes with a sigh rubbing his forehead and Hank just nods as he passes him for the files.

What he finds is really not what he expects. The picture of a calm, steady face is familiar enough but he hopes it's just the hangover and too many sleepless night that ruined his sight that makes him see the person in front of him. He really don't want to pay more attention to the details of the porcelain smile, so he puts the picture away in the folder and reads the files about the case.

And goddamnit, he really can't have a good day, can he?

 

Connor waits in the room patiently. Well, this is not what he’d planned. This is really not. But right now he tries not to think about living his life in a small jail cell because his stress level should remain low if he wants to go trough this investigation successfully. Also Niles always says that a situation can never worsen if you don't fucking speak a word and for once maybe Connor should try just that.

After a few minutes the door opens wide and Connor sees what he's expected the less. Lieutenant Hank Anderson stands in the doorway, a frown splattered over his face like he just chew a forkful of three days old cold pasta. It's not that bad, but he'd rather not do it.

"Oh fuck me", he murmurs and Connor can't keep himself from scanning every single bit of detail of his body.

"Already did”, he says with a shy smile, not really realizing what he just said.

The Lieutenant just grumbles something as he throws the files onto the table and sits in front of him. And boy, does that make Connor nervous.

"If you wanted to meet up you could have just asked for my number, smugface. " he says as he starts running trough the documents in front of him.

Connor catches some glimpses of the content. It is written plain and simple how much he fucked up. Breaking into the system of the DPD from a public library was a piece of cake, especially after he got the badge number. He just shouldn't have gotten so preoccupied by the only little firewall he couldn't break and he would have gotten out of there on time. It's just he is always too perfectionist. Always wants to much. 

He could have tried it again in another time, but he really would have liked to finish this job in one go. 

Well, all he got was handcuffs on his wrist by a patroling officer from nearby as he tried to exit the building. Sheer luck, they said. That's all it was. The officer was close enough and the radio system hadn't got damaged by the system error. Connor took too much time.

Sheer luck can fuck up perfect plans too. And Connor knows, his wasn't perfect.

"You got yourself into some serious shit, kid" Hank says as he finally looks up from the papers.

Connor feels insecure under those heavy eyes. Not like it's judging or anything like that but he can feel it in his guts that Hank wanted to get something else out of this case. Not a clueless young boy not understanding the consequences of his actions. Maybe it's disappointment, or just something Connor can't comprehend, it doesn't really matter. It just makes him feel ill.

He is not sure what to say so he just nods along and sit back on his chair. He tries to avoid the heavy gaze.

"Hacking into a government facility's computer system is indeed illegal”, he mumbles as he watches one little hair on the Lieutenant's leather jacket.

It's grey and long and it's definietly from Hank itself, but it's not where it belongs to and Connor feels an itch in his hands, like his body is demanding something. He wants to stand up and sweep away that one little stray hair, but he knows he cannot do that right now. Wouldn't be acceptable in a situation like this.

"Indeed illegal he says" Hank mocks Connor, then snorts. "May I ask about your stupid intention?"

Connor blinks twice.

"You may", he articulates the words slowly. "But I'm afraid I have nothing to tell you”,

"Nothing, you say?

"Yes. Nothing”,

Hank nods along, rubs his eyes with his thumb. He looks like he'd rather be elsewhere, probably in front of a box of donuts and a cup of coffee and Connor doesn't blame him for it. This strange situation is not going to help their already odd relationship. 

Can even Connor call this a relationship? They fucked once in a dirty bathroom stall and even though it was one of the best experience of his life, they really can't call such a fragile interaction the basis of a relationship. Also this is going to be their longest conversation so far so maybe relationship is really just an overstatement. Not like he actually want one with the man. He's imagined too much already in spite of the fact that it is clear that he should flee Detroit the moment he has a chance. It is childish to think that it's going to be alright as a miracle liberates him from the pile of problems he put himself into.

Connor almost loses himself in the wave of his own mind when Hank sighs and sits back. Now they both look like they are two teenagers in front of a school desk, math homework laying on the table without a solution. Connor doesn't like the expectant feeling in his stomach, so he swallows. Nothing happens for a moment.

"I'm gonna be honest with you kid" Hank says breaking the silence. "Your hacking style and the code you worked with resembles the ones we've already encountered several times before”, he pasuses. "You should not hang out with this gang”,

Connor's calmness falters and he is sure Hank notices because his eyes light up like he's one of those stray cats that gets fed by gentle souls.

"What gang?" Connor ask.

"Your gang.”

"I have no gang, Lieutenant".

The detective just shrugs as he crosses his arms.

"I don't care what you call your little boyband, but you know. Group activity. Like Anonymus.”

Something inside Connor's attitude changes as he listens to the accusation. He hesitates for a moment, like he's not really sure what he's going to say, and to be honest, he really doesn't know what way he could approach this concern, but the one thing he cannot ignore is his own curiosity. He decides to fumble around it like he's never heard of such things.

"It's a dead organization”,

Hank nods and scratches his beard. A little tick that stucks with people in every situation and Connor recognizese this trough himself as he is itching for his coin to play with.

"It has successors”,

Connor needs to swallow, because right now his head feels like it's going to explode.

"What makes you think I am part of this organization? Have I given you any reasons?"

The Lieutenant snorts as an amused smile splatteres all over his face. God, Connor wants to touch it, feel it, find out if it's as real and soft as it seems, because the first time he didn’t have the chance, but there is a table between the two of them and a whole lot of unsaid questions, so he hold himself back, directing all the tension from his mind to his joints as he taps an unsteady rythim with his foot.

"Besides breaking into the DPD system?" Hank grumbles. "These IT specialists told me that the programming language that you used is unique. I don't know shit about it but it has been only seen a few times before”,

"I see”, Connor murmurs.

Then it is quiet for some time. Hank doesn't seem upset enough to pressure Connor into speaking and he can clearly see that he needs to process the things first. Of course he doesn't consider it for a moment that the boy is a part of a cybercrime group, even looking at him proves otherwise. Still, there's this eery feeling he just can't ignore when he searches his expression. Something is off, very much so, it is just not visible to the eyes and that annoys the shit out of him.

Also, wanting to fuck the life out of the boy doesn’t help either. They haven’t even started the interrogation part really and he’s sitting with half an erection and all that he can think of is the way that brittle body was pressed against the bathroom stall.

"So you want to talk about your hobby or do I have to pull out my gun again to convince you?"

Connor's eyes pop up watching directly at the Lieutenant, expectant and hazy, like he sees something forbidden. A shy smile creeps on the pretty face and that makes it look even more fragile than before.

"It is a strange way of asking about my free time activities on the first date.”

"Look around”, Hank chuckles. "This is our first date. I can be weird like that.”

Connor seems to relax for a bit even though his position stays as geometrically correct as possible, but his shoulders slump a little and Hank considers it a good sign. Yes, he should be more serious about this situation but nothing tragic happened, right? Just a few computers running wild.

"I'm working alone”, 

"Uhum. Sure”,

"I'm a freelancer”, the kid stutters. "Organized cybercrime drastically decreases the probability of achieving success if it comes to me.”

"Jesus, you always talk like a textbook? Hank sighs.

Connor seems a little confused for a moment because he really wanted to convey his message properly, that way people usually believe what he's saying. Being professional is a vocal point to seem honest and convincing so he fails to understand what he's doing wrong when the Lieutenant doesn't respond with the expected reaction.

Then it hits him.

"I find integration to a community, especially understanding socially constructed norms quite difficult, so I find cooperation extremely trying”, he explains patiently. "Altough you should know that by my medical records. Have you read my medical records, Lieutenant?

"I haven't had the pleasure yet”,

"Have it now”,

For the first time trough this whole interrogation Connor seems confident and Hank is too tired to question it so he just take the files and looks for the records.

It is... neat. 

Like a record that is professionally done. It looks like how it is supposed to look like and not how it should. Hank immediately thinks that it was written by and android but it is mostly about mental health and as far as he knows there are no available psychiatrist androids yet.

Or maybe he is just and old fox who has never been to a specialits, although he should have and doesn't know whether psychiatrist are more proper with their work or not. He doesn't pay more attention to it, just runs trough the few listed problems. 

Reading the last on feels like he's been ran trough by a train.

"So... Sensitive issue", he murmurs as he puts down the files on the table.

There are words highlighted by red neon in front of his eyes screaming. Asperger syndrome, it says and goddammit, Hank had a few cases before with similar aspects but it hits him personally. It never felt like he'd taken advantage of anyone and right now it is just like that. And he knows this is stupid. Connor is a twenty-seven year old adult man who can make responsible choices and give consent to whoever he wants. It seems that he’s just very bad at it.

"It is not that serious. I've had treatment", Connor explains as he tries not to look at the man directly. "It's just difficult to work with others”, 

Hank only nods not knowing how to respond, so instead he just scratches his beard awkwardly as he waits for a saving grace to pull him out of the situation.

Connor decides to be just that.

"Can I ask a question?"

"Usually I am the one asking questions here but sure. Go for it”,

Connor hesitates but then opens his mouth.

"Why is it a homicide detective's concern?" he asks. "Hacking into computers usually has no murderous outcome.

"No, not with humans”,

"What about androids?"

The question catches Hank off guard because noone ever thought about murder and android in the same context. Sure, Connor is a weird potato but he must understand the difference between machine and flesh. Metal can't be alive the way flesh can. So it's not murder, is it?

"A few androids have been damaged, yeah. Not murder though.”

Connor flinches for a moment, expressionless face going awry but it looks like only a glitch. One moment and it's all gone and Hank is left startled by it. 

"Then why?"

"You made the people outside lunatic with your little party trick. I was the only one who wouldn't have chopped down your pretty head from your neck.”

The kid looks a bit disappointed, the puts his hands on the table playing with a coin.

"I see", he mutters and try to ignore Hank's curious gaze.

"So…”

"You need my help.”

It is not a question, it is a statement clear as day and Connor looks almost as confident as his words feel. Hank doesn't reply because sure, one person who can finally undestand the code could be fucking useful for the case and maybe they could finally stop that bullshit that has been going on with traffic lights and hospital androids lately. But it’s not that simple.

Fortunately it is not a widely shared oppinion by the public that these crimes are connected, most of them seem just like something gone wrong with the wiring or the androids' expiration date has passed. Only the DPD sees the pattern and they really should do something about it because it grows biggeer and bigger with every incident just like it usually does with terrorist attacks. These first few were only practice and in a world run by computers, Hank doesn't want to see the outcome.

But asking help from a suspect? Happened before, but never like this.

"Look, just because you are not in the gang doesn't mean you are innocent, kid", he sighs, but Connor's determination doesn't falter. "You fucked up our system, that is a crime. Also I don't even know why you did that.”

Connor looks annoyed as he bites his mouth for a moment. He is contemplating and that's a good sign because it means that he's going to spit out the reasons and soon Hank can be home again preferably with a beer in his hand and a big dog on his lap.

"It was a bet", he says and Hank wavers.

"A bet?"

"Yes. It is stupid and I screwed up but it is nothing more.”

"A bet, kid.”

Connor looks even more annoyed.

"I know. Don't say it.”

Hank doesn’t know how to respond. His rage is crawling out of his guts right into his mind and for a moment he’s thinking about breaking something but there is nothing he could tear apart without serious outcome. Fuck, kids these days really don’t understand what it means to face consequences.

"You don't get it, kid. Everyone outside that fucking door thinks you are in it. In this fucking mess of a case. Just because of a bet.”

"But I am not part of it. And I could help.”

"You understand that you're illness is not an evidence?" Hank grunts. 

God, this case is much more than what he's bargained for.

To be honest Hank pities the boy. He actually believes that he had no bad intention and everyone does stupid things in their youth. Even Hank did some pretty shady stuff in his youth and if he had no back problems, he'd probably still do it now. It's just that being young is not a good excuse. Nothing is a good enough excuse when you fuck up a system as important as the department's.

Connor seems to realize that too because he's starting to get too similar to a little puppy soaking in the pouring rain. 

"You said your specialists has encountered this programming language before. But they do not know it", Connor explains wearily. "This type of language requires knowledge that has been requirable only for a few months.

"So this shit is new”,

"Yes. And I already mastered it entirely.

"Then I'm sure we can do that too" Hank says with a tired smile and Connor's expression breaks a little into something more confident.

"Yes, you can. If you have a few months to do it", he teases Hank and in that moment the man gives up.

He has no patience to do this and Connor’s right. They have no time.

"Look, kid", Hank sighs as he leans forward on his elbows. "Jesus, maybe... I can talk with the Captain.”

Connor's dark eyes glow up with a shy hope to the words as he fidgets with his coin nervously.

"Really?" 

"I'm not promising anything. Just a talk", he says standing up from the chair. "These assholes out there are not so easily persuadable as I am.”

"I ensure you that I am you best chance", Connor smiles. "Learning this type of programming language takes time. And unfortunately you probably don't have much of that.”

Hank snorts as he steps towards the door and runs a hand trough his hair. This is really not how he'd planned the whole day. With a fucking kid in his mind like a perv going to the captain begging to release his sugar baby. He can still feel the soft skin under his fingertips if he closes his eyes and concentrates enough. He thought that he was too old for this and right now he's acting all illogical for a pretty pair of eyes.

"I'll tell you if we work something out”,

"Thank you", beams the kid, and Hank is crushed inside completely.

"Just don't expect wonders.”

"Oh and Lieutenant…”  
"Yeah?" Hank turns back to meet a big grin.

"If you would be so kind, I would also like to ask for your number.”

He says that like he's ordering some fancy shit in a fucking restaurant and that makes Hank quite amused because probably the poor guy doesn't even understand what he got wrong. He just rubs his eyes again, holding the files in his other hand and steps outside the room.

"Fucking hackers.”


	3. Connotation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets out of the danger and Hank giggles like a little girl. Fowler needs a 24 hour sleep session.

Not for the first time in his life Connor is impatient and yes, it is not the first time, but definietly the worst. He doesn't know where to put his hands, how to sit properly, his legs are everywhere and he is way too sensitive to every single bit of noise coming from outside.

Of course he is good with couting probability and percieving the likelihood of the outcomes he imagines but right now there are too many variables and arguments in this calculation so the best way to see what happens is waiting. And Connor, without a clue, is very bad at that.

So he stares at his fingers, every little crack and wrinkle analyzed, the shade of his skin memorized as he moves it to the light of the lamp and back to the shade. Then he does this again and again so after a few times his mind finally calms down seeing something familiar, a pattern, a code, something predictable. Only the opening door snaps him out of it.

There is a tall, black man standing, arms crossed and face stilled. It must be Captain Fowler. Hank behind his back looks exhausted like he's just been dismissed from the principle's office and god, Connor's never been so afraid in his life, even though the Captain is not the best example of intimidation. It's just too many stimuli coming at the same time.

"So this is the big hacker guy who tough pranking the station would be fun", he mumbles as he steps in and sits in front of Connor.

Hank just stays in the corner, face emotionless and numb. Like a scolded child. He was probably sweating blood for the opportunity to drag his boss here.

"You don't look like those sci-fi guys in the movies", the man says and Connor tries not to stare at his hands on the table.

Gazing at one point for a considerable amount of time is weird. Especially if you do it without blinking. He doesn't want to seem weird, not in this situation.

Focus.

"I'm sorry to disappoint", Connor answers looking up to the brown eyes. "Unfortunately I haven't had the chance to genetically enhance my body and mind with inhuman technology. Yet."

A little smile crawls on the face of the Captain and he sits back on the little chair so the atmoshpere can breath again and Connor can relax too. His shoulders slump a little as he tries to shake the overwhelmed feeling of being pressured into talking to someone new.

"You had just enough brain to ruin our whole system in ten minutes. That's impressive", he points out and Connor should be proud of himself. He just apparently fucked up badly and he is not. "No previous information, just a home-made virus."

Oh, the irony hits him like a truck as his eyes wander to Hank's jacket and the to the badge inside his pocket. The Lieutenant seem to realize the aim of the gaze because he puts his hand in the little sack and grasps the metal plate in his hand. His eyes are sore and they sream 'holy shit' as he understand the meaning of the stare.

Connor feels ashamed because he didn't want him to think that the whole incident was just because he needed the number. No, there were various other ways to get what he wanted, but he wanted it like this. He chose to get fucked by a bathroom stall by Hank and he didn't regret a moment ever since.

"Yes", he breathes not breaking the eye-contact between him and Hank. "No help indeed."

"And you are telling me that you can help us with these hackers", Fowler says and Connor finally looks at him again. He seems curious.

"I certainly can try, yes", he nods. "I'll probably be able to read it on the first hand."

The Captain doesn't look interested, he just looks tired. There are big, black bags under his eyes, the skin shade darker than elsewhere and he frowns in a way that his brows almost hide his eyelids. Connor doesn't blame him, he wouldn't like to be in charge of a case of a series of terrorist attacks, but he aslo doesn't mind having a chance to get out of this situation.

"Why do you think our specialists wouldn't be able to do that?"

Connor doesn't want to answer. He doesn't want to tell his secrets right away so he chews on his own ideas for a few minutes looking down at his shoes. They are worn out and old, but he loves them because they were the first pair he bought with hiw own money. It calms him, something familiar.

"They would be, it would just take time", he anwers with careful wording. "Learning a whole new language in a few days is hard."

Fowler sighs.

"We have androids."

"They can be used as a compiler but if they don't know the codes they are trying to translate then it is useless. It's like when you want to translate a language, you have to know both of them. Androids are useless."

Connor knows it's not true but he can't let go the only thing that can get him out of jail. Also it seems that they haven't tried them yet if this case is still that serious so he lies hoping it won't be too obvious.

He tells what they want to hear. That androids can't learn, especially not police units. That they are just dumb machines. Dumb and very fast but ultimately just machines who can't do anything without a human supervisor.

And god does it feel bad to even think about it.

Cause using androids would be faster. They would be even more sufficient on the long run. But people are probably too stubborn and proud to realize that and actually utilize them. After all if androids can program too, what are the people here for anymore? Computers don't write codes for themselves, lines and lines about their desires, strings and integers embedded in their head by themselves for a personal use, but usually computers are not a kind of intelligence who can comprehend the outside world's happenings and make decisions on their own. Androids on the other hand... who knows?

So they just probably shove the idea in the back of the corner, put a blanket on it and let the dust settle on as long as it's possible. It's not like anyone would ever question anything like that. Teach an android how to create a program on their own and humanity becomes useless. It's simple as that.

"So we have to crack these codes first", Fowler mumbles snapping Connor out of his mind.

"Yes."

"And you can."

"Probably."

The Captain stays still and even Hank seems to be a little bit impatient in the corner cause he starts to fidget and adjust his position in every minute. He doesn't say a words though, he just looks at Connor with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Never seen a vandal so well-cut like you", Fowler cuts into the silence and Connor feels confused.

"I'm sorry to disappoint. Again."

"I could just put you in jail, you know? Wouldn't last 2 days in that hell."

Oh, he wants to sound intimidating but something is missing or Connor just simply knows that he has his ticket out of here. He doesn't want to be overconfident though. People do pretty dumb things out of spite and he realizes that this time being cocky would only make his situation worse. So he smiles shyly like he has no idea why it came to this. Empty threats and impatient expectations.

"That would be certainly unfavourable."

"Oh come on, Jeffrey", Hank snaps. "Don't work up the kid."

Connor cherishes the thought of being worked up.

"He got into our servers and caused a three-hour-paralysis. I think I can work him up a little bit."

Hank mumbles something but it's hardly a coherent sound so the Captain pays no attention to him and gets back to Connor. He sits there waiting for his judgement like a well-behaving child who knows he did nothing wrong.

"Am I needed then?" Connor asks and the Captain stands up from his chair.

"Yeah. We've been dealing with this hell of a case for months without a single lead. You're our best shot", he announces and Hank seems a little bit relaxed altough only shows it with a smile and Connor feels like someone's just stopped choking him and he can breath for the first time in a while. "Get your shit together and come with me."

 

Connor gets sat down in front of a computer that seems like it's going to give up its carreer in one of these days and go to Fiji for his final weeks. He doesn't mind though. Reading codes don't demand much of efficiency and that's just what he's here for. If he is needed for further inspections he can bring his own laptop.

Fowler says that he's going to be back in a few minutes with a few documents and someone who can actually make out how to send him all the files to the computer. And then Connor's all alone again in spite of the bullpen being crowded by busy police officers and motionless police units standing in their bays. Connor feels startled by it, humanlike faces showing no discomfort of being treated like everyday object so he looks elsewhere.

And his eyes stay at one point.

Lieutenant Anderson is sitting in front of his own desk at the other end of the bullpne staring at his phone with too much concentration to be natural. Like he doesn't want to look up to meet the eyes of a young man who he had a one night stand with. Connor feels shame creeping up on his neck.

He should say thanks to the man. Without him he would probably be in jail and that's something that must have been a hell of a ride to achieve.

But Connor is not really good with words and it seems that Hank doesn't want to make it seem like he's too interested in all this so he turns to the computer and starts searching. It's alright, he knows how being awkward works. He just have to find another way to approach the man.

 

Hank feels weird. Not that type of weird when you doesn't know why a dog is biking with a chicken on his head, not that bullshit dream type of weird. It's more like a mature, insecure type when you are not sure whether your actions are justified enough.

Yeah, getting the kid out of the danger of jail is definietly a honorable move but it somehow feels wrong. He wants to think he did that because somewhere deep he is still quite a good man and Connor probably hadn’t even known what he had been doing. He is definietly not compromised by those brown puppy eyes and the rare smile that is so honest he'd rather look at the sun and he would definietly see a smaller beam of sunshine.

No. That's not the case. He's just probably tired of seeing prankster kids suffer years and years for a crime they don't understand the consequences of. And anyway he can be of good use here. Maybe he will solve a whole case. And that's good. That's respectable.

The thing that's not respectable though is the way Hank jumps in his seat when his phone light up in his hand. A new message - it says and god, it's from an unknown number. Hank looks up trying to find Connor's eyes but he's covered by the computer in front of him.

"Fuck", he mumbles and opens the message.

14:12 Thank you for speaking a few words for my benefit. I truly appreciate it.

Hank bites his mouth as he looks around. Noone is watching him as usual and he doesn't actually know why he feels so nervous of writing back.

14:14 how did u get my number?

He sits back watching Connor who doesn't seem to move a lot but then his phone rings again and there's a new message and fuck, he feels like a preteen girl texting his crush on a Friday night before their date.

14:15 Mind reading.

Hank chuckles even though he shouldn't because that only means that Connor did something illegal again and dammit, does he even learn from his mistakes?

14:15 u got into our database again right?

14:16 In my defense it was too easy. Your IT technicians doesn't create an efficient defense wall. 

14:16 u can still get into trouble connor

A few minutes pass before he gets and answer and Hank starts to think he wrote something wrong. After all he haven't had a full conversation with someone who liked for years. Maybe nowadays the youth is extremely sensitive like when he was in this 30's and everything that someone said was either controvertial or not woke enough. God, he hated those years.

But then there's another notice and if he's too eager to read it, who cares?

14:19 I needed your number and you didn't give it to me. And I really wanted to talk to you.

14:20 u still shouldn't have it

A few minutes pass by again and Hank knows he wrote the logical things. The adult thing. What every sane, mature people would have wrote. But god he feels awful.

14:23 Have I upset you?

Hank doesn't know. He should be upset, that's sure, it's just very hard when it is so clear that the person on the other end of the phone is almost as afraid of screwing it up as you are. And to be honest Hank haven't had someone who was that interested in him for years so he is willing to forget that little tag on the incident that says it was fucking illegal. Again.

Still, this is not right. He shouldn't have private conversations with an accusee who is on probation on condition of being a fucking good boy and crack a cyberterrorist case.

14:25 nah we are just not supposed to do it

14:26 Why?

14:27 im a cop and ur a whatever. 

14:28 It means that YOU are not supposed to do it. I can do whatever I want. That includes texting you.

Hank can't hide his smile that is splattered on his face from the cheeky comeback. The kid got grooves that's for sure and after all what if they text? Noone will probably know about it anyway.

14:29 asshat... anyways thx for not getting me dirty

The badge in his jacket pocket gets heavier as he thinks about the night at the pub when Connor picked it up from the floor taking a good thorough look at the numbers as he gave it back to him. That was the last thing he needed to get into the system, Hank knows that much. And yeah, it was fishy from the moment he started talking to him but Hank knows that all those efforts to get into his pants would have been easily exchanged for one well-timed pickpocketing so he doesn't dwell a lot in the pit of self-doubt about Connor's attraction towards him.

He knows the kid is clever. He would have found a way that doesn't include getting dick down to the ground by Hank if he wanted to. He would have just ignored him when had the chance after getting out of that interrogation room but now he is sending messages to the Lieutenant acting like it's robbing a phone number from a police department database is the easiest thing to do in the whole wide world. Of course it's clear that the kid is interested.

And to be honest Hank feels at least a little bit impressed even though he's also a bit creeped out. But Connor probably doesn't understand the unspoken social rules of being harassed means and if Hank would call him out of it he would probably stop. He just doesn't want Connor to stop.

So he thanks him instead. Hank knows what a shitload of repercussions he could have faced if it turned out to be him to give the information to Connor so he can break into the system of the DPD. But the boy didn't say a words and Hank is fucking grateful for that even though he feels a little bit cheated. He was still used. But they can talk about this question later when this whole fucking case is closed. 

14:30 Getting you into trouble was not part of accomplishing my aim.

14:30 yeah sure 

14:31 u know how to make one feel better

Hank hears a chuckle and the blood freezes in his veins as he realizes that it comes from Connor. He doesn't seem like a type who do little silly noises in his free time but god, it makes Hank feel good to know he was the one who made him do it.

14:32 Also I would hate to work on something without favourable perks.

Favourable perks? God, what has he got himself into?

14:32 like what?

14:33 Initially your phone number.

He almost stands up and walks towards Connor just to say something foolish. To make him realize that this is really not the best time to flirt with a police officer who is older, grumpier and way more harder to stand than what the kid believes. But then Fowler comes in with a blonde woman following him and they stop at the desk of Connor who shakes the hand of the girl.

Hank knows her. She's from the IT section of the DPD and as fas as he knows, she is one of the best ones out there. He bites his tongue and stays at his desk grabbing an old file about a murder he’d already solved. He tries not to feel disappointed as the flow of messages dies out.

He doesn't actually knows which way is the best to cope with emotions but ignorance never really failed him. So he just stick with that.

Yeah. Ignorance will work.


	4. Loop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank is no good in arguments.

"Who'se the new guy?"

Hank sighs as Gavin Reed rolls to his desk on that little chair that he brought himself to the station because 'it has a better swing' as he said and fucking acts like a 5-year-old with sugar addiction in a candy shop. He watches as the man points his nose towards Connor like a drug hound sniffing some good marijuana in the cupboard. Hank doesn't have the patience right now so he just huffs some anwser that is hardly understanbale and hopes that the other detective leaves.

He doesn't.

He looks at Hank with big expectant eyes and leans on, two palms on the table, waiting.

"Looking for someone to pick on?" Hank asks as he goes trough a pile of documents.

He doesn't even have the pity to look up.

Reed just shrugs and starts rotating with the chair. He has a gum in his mouth and he chews it without paying much attention towards the other people around him who would very much like to do their job. Hank dispesis him with every single bite he takes on that fucking gum.

"One needs to get busy, you know" he says crossing his arms.

"Sure. Cause you probably have nothing better to do."

Reed laughs at the assumption as he crawls back to face Hank. He puts his elbow on the table, maybe to make the situation seem like they actually tolerate each other but of course it fools noone, even though Hank definietly believes that Reed assumes himself a genious when it comes to social interactions.

Non-verbal communication, he would say. That's the key of a good working relationship.

What a shame that Hank's favourite tool of non-verbal communication is his fist.

"You know this case annoys the shit out of me", he chats like Hank would actually care. "Android are destroyed and they act like it's the end of the world. Why should I care if a toaster got a shortcut?"

"A woman was also injured", Hank corrects him, and Reed has the audocity to act like he was symphatetic all along.

"Yeah, that one is just shitty."

"I though since you have symphaty towards your fellow human beings you may have more interest in solving the case", Hank mumbles and the detective starts fidgeting with some paper on the desk like he want to distract himself. "Although I am not completely sure if you are human."

"Wow" Gavin acts all suprised all of the sudden. "You have a sense of humor. Who would have thought?"

Instead of answering the obviously rhetorical question Hank just stands up and heads toward the breakroom hoping that Reed will finally understand the abscence of desire for him to be in the near distance of Hank for more than one second. But it's natural that the detective just hops to his feet and follows the lieutenant.

He has been always like that. Like some stray dog seeing something at the end of a tin can, something that is worthy of reaching out to and injuring yourself in the process. Maybe that's why he has that scar on his nose, Hank thinks. Maybe it's that people don't always tolerate this needy behaviour. Maybe most of the times people tend to be that sharp part of that tin can that leaves fluted scars behind.

Hank decides that he doesn't want to waste any more idea on Reed and reaches for the coffee machine as he ignores his company completely.

"You haven't anwered my question, old man. Who's the guy?"

Hank turns towards him ready to kill.

"What guy?'

"The one who looks like he is sitting on a glowstick ready to vomit rainbow colored slime”, Gavin says as it's the world's most normal metaphor. 

And Hank blames it on Reed's Fortnite playing ass and his generation's understandable hatred towards everything that is slightly straight. Not like Hank is so straight as an arrow himself, but at least he know how to act like a normal person.

"Do you hear yourself?"

"Do you hear yourself? Gavin mocks him and Hank gives up completely.

He leans his head on the nearest wall praying to whatever entitiy can hear him to set him free from the other detective but nothing happens for a while and he realizes that the only way out of Reed's curious graps is giving him what he wants.

"He's a hacker."

Reed's eyes grow wide.

"A hacker."

"You deaf?"

"That hacker?"

Oh, Hank recognizes the tone. It's the 'you better be fucking kidding me' tone he only uses when Sumo is chewing on something he shouldn't be and he only hears when Fowler sees him fumbling over an evidence in drunken haze on a crime scene. Although it doesn't happen a lot.

Still he loathes this tone because it questions his abilities in something he should be trusted and he hates it even more because most of the time he sees where it's coming from. It just doesn't fucking feel good.

"He let you suck his cock or what? That's how you're so generous to him?" Gavin asks with some spite poisoning his words. "How did Fowler say yes to this? You sucked him too?

"You know, Reed, life is not always about sucking a dick" Hank turns towards him sipping from his mug. "But how would you know that?"

The coffee is strong and he finally feels awake enough to concentrate on the problem he is faced with. Gavin just pouts like a child who just got scolded because he had stolen his mother's credit card, like one day it's gonna mean nothing because they both will be dead and money is just a temporary thing and Hank knows that this the truth, because this little chat between them will mean nothing in a few hours but he still feels obligated to tell him off. To make himself feel like he knows all the secrets of the world that this asshole has no idea about.

Like sucking cocks, and life and shit.

"I had my reason and Fowler is clever enough to see the point of it. Now, if you will, could you kindly fuck off?"

Gavin swallows the long chain of curses and just stomps his feet like he's going to put out a cigarette.

"Alright, old man. Just so you know, whatever help you need, turn to someone else. I won't help you", Reed mumbles and Hank considers letting him go easily, like his words actually got to him, but then again he knows enough about life and shit.

"Sure. Never expected."

"Good."

"Good."

Gavin stands there for a few seconds drowning in the tense silence and then in one swift motion he leaves the room and Hank thanks the entity he prayed to before and finally drinks his fucking coffee in peace.

 

There are numbers and letters scattered all around the monitor of the computer and Connor for the first time in forever thinks that maybe it is time for him to retire. To try out new things. Like fleeing the country and never looking at another computer again.

He leans towards as if he could see better if he's just a few centimeters away from the display but then again he realizes that it's not the language that causes the problem. It's just the pattern.

"It doesn't make any sense", he mumbles and the girl next to him turns towards the computer screen.

"I've tried every program to run a test whether it has a pattern or an understandable algorithm but nothing", she says and turns back to her work. "Like it's written by some freaky spooky shit. Whoever wrote this is an OP."

Kiara is 25 years old, she has dark brown hair and green eyes and half of the time Connor has no idea what she's talking about. She's been with the DPD for one and a half year and she already leads a small group of the IT section of the department specialized in hacker activity. Connor sees the potential altough he's not entirely sure whether she's professional enough to be a leader of a team like this.

She's really clever though and that is something Connor must acknowledge.

"It's evolving", Connor says as he runs trough the lines and lines of code again.

"Like a Pokemon?" the girl ask.

"I guess", Connor says unsteadily, then point at one part of the program. "See this part? It makes the program self-destruct a section of itself after it was initiated.

"Oh boy, that means we are dealing with suicide bombers", she giggles and looks at Connor for some reaction.

His face stays still.

"Alright, so what does that mean exactly? It destroys itself and leaves a big pile of mess behind?"

"Yes" Connor nods. "In a nutshell that is exactly what it means."

Kiara just nods and sit back on his chair as he watches Connor's expression. He tries to avoid eye-contact as much as he can but he can't help but feel a little bit startled by the intensive gaze. Like she's doubting about his abilities. Like she's questioning Connor's behaviour. Like she knows something.

"Alright. So you can handle it?"

"I hope so", he says quietly. "I don't want to fail."

"Good. Then don't."

 

It's almost the end of the day when Hank gathers the courage to approach Connor. He's been working intentively on the case and even though Hank doesn't know shit about computer programming and viruses, he knows enough about people to see that something bothers the kid. He leans closer to the screen than he should and his eyes follow the lenght of the lines every second he reads one.

Hank just quietly steps beside him putting a palm on the slim shoulder. Connor doesn't seem to recognize the thouch as he pulls away with a startled move. Then he turns back, his eyes meeting Hank's and he smiles a little.

"You alright?" Hank asks.

"Yeah. I just..."

Connor doesn't know how to articulate the things he intends to say, at least how to do it properly but he certainly looks like a lost puppy in a dark alleyway. Hank feels sorry for him a moment because that's probably how he feels right now. In a totally unknown environment full of strangers drowning in social anxiety and awkwardness. Like Hank in his teen years, it's just that for Connor it's every day.

He find a chair for himself and pulls it next to the desk so he can lower himself on it and Connor doesn't have to look up anymore. They are on the same level and it makes the younger a bit more comfortable as Hank watches his fingers stop twitching.

"I wanted to ask a question about the case" Connor says and Hank nods.

"Go on. What do you want to know?"

Connor seems nervous again and Hank puts his hand back on his shoulder as he realizes that this little contact could make wonders with the other man. God, Connor looks so young and fragile and most of the time so lost that Hank feels the urge to gather him up in a big blanket and put him in a safe place so noone could ever stress him out again. But with the touch he relaxes a bit and it's just the two of them again, the bullpen almost empty and Connor feels the need to fill the silence that lays on the atmosphere.

"You said that there were no cases of murder among these attacks", Connor says, voice breaking a little. "Does that mean that these android that get malfunctioned don't act violently?"

Hank is suprised by the question because noone ever really cares about these stupid machines but then again, they are human cops only paying attention towards details that can be in connection with human intentions and behaviours and probably noone ever really questioned anything from the viewpoint of androids.

"Well, they only attack each other if that's what you're asking. I mean there was an incident where a woman got injured but nothing more. Most of the time it's just flashy traffic lights and stressful android owners", he says watching as Connor turns back to the screen. "Why are you asking? Found something?"

"I may have. I am not sure", Connor mumbles and looks trough pages and pages of codes that Hank doesn't even want to understand.

"And? Care to share?"

The other man doesn't answer immediately and he doesn't actually answer at all, just sits back and starts chewing his own lips. That gives Hank some unwanted imaginary pictures and god dammit, he's already too old for this.

"Why is noone talking about this? There is no news feed mentioning any cyberattack."

Hanks sighs as he hears the question. Of course everyone first instinct would be to warn the civillians as to make them avoid any contect with possible attack of an unpredictable android and yeah, maybe just because nothing serious has happened before doesn't mean that it is out of the question, it's just that maybe the outcome would cause more damage then help.

Hank imagines the fear and confusion that would slowly take over the people looking for every little clue that would indicate any malfunction in their everyday partners and helpers. And god, even though Hank hates those tin cans more than listening to Gavin's stupid jokes, he would hate so see so many humanlike faces get destroyed by the franctic crowds.

"Could you imagine the bullshit if everyone knew that one of the object they put full trust in could go nuts any moment?" he mumbles and Connor has to admit that there's some truth in it. "There would be chaos. Something we don't actually need right now."

Connor understands. Of course he does. He is clever and calm, he sees the logic behind the words, but there is something in his expression that is hard to decode as if he's trying to fight something in his guts by telling lies and lies to himself.

"So the police keeps it a secret", he says quietly and Hank realizes the tone.

Connor feels sorry for the androids. His voice is shaky and breathy as if he's not sure about his intents but Hank recognizes the emphaty in those warm brown eyes and for a moment he feels bad.

He doesn't even know why. He doesn't actually know Connor that well, he shouldn't care. He shouldn't feel disappointed about making someone sad about something he has no control over. And still, he feels that way and it fucking tastes awful.

"It's better this way", he tries to reason, and to be honest he can't even believe himself. "Easier to work on it."

Silence falls between them for a moment before Hank decides that this is stupid. Being super sad aboud computers is stupid. Connor is stupid. They should do their job.

Investigation and looking for clues.

"So you don't want to tell your discovery?" he tries to change the subject and it works because Connor seems a bit more awake as he turns back to the screen and points to a line of code.

"It's not really a discovery, it's just... This program, it's a virus targeting simple androids", he explains as simple as he can. "It paralyses the processor and overwrites it but I don't know what is does actually and how."

"Can't you tell?" Hank says suprised.

Connor shows a pained expression and Hank has this gut feeling that says it's not going to end well somehow. He will definietly hear something he won't like.

"A part of the code is pursues itself to self-destroy. Kind of like a grenade", Connor explains then types a code into the program and it crashes down. "And I can't seem to put it back together."

"So they threw a cybergrenade at the androids and they all went nuts", Hank sighs. "Sounds like a sci-fi movie."

"A little bit more complicated though. But yes, it's mostly true."

They sit in silence and Hank feels the nervous tension creeping up to grab his nape as is something untouchable wants to scare him away from this whole investigation. Not like he hadn't seen signs before, the first one was Fowlers unapproving expression when he demanded to be the leader of the investigation. 

Even though he hates android and technology and if he could he just put those them robots in a box and ship it to the moon, he still knows Connor even if just remotely and he also knows that this detective work could be triggering. It may have outcomes that the kid don't know how to handle and maybe Hank has a symphaty for him.

So he sits down next to him and try to understand all the cyberbullshit that Connor can scratch out of that little clue they have.

"So what can we do about it?" he asks and Connor looks him in the eye, those brown pools full of self-doubt.

"I am not sure if I can do anything", he says and his hands fall in his lap, fingers tangled and he looks so lost again that Hank leans forward and put a hand back on his shoulder.

Connor just lets the comforting touch sink in under his skin.

"It's alright. I'm sure you tried your best."

"No, I dind’t."

Hank blinks a few times.

"You didn't?"

"I can't do anything from here. From a point where the program is already destroyed", he explains and the feeling grows stronger in Hank's veins. "I need to take a look at it when it's running.

"You want to see the androids go nuts."

"Yes. Please."

There is a great pause in the discussion while Connor is looking at Hank expectantly. He starts fidgeting with his fingers, a nervous tick, an activity to fill the silence with something that can distract his attention and he just waits for an answer. 

Hank thinks it trough because he's instincts are screaming no and also the clever and responsible part of his brain also is screaming no and even the part that's usually laughs at Gavin's stupid and dangerous pranks is screaming no too. There is no competition.

"Hell no."

Connor is not suprised.

"That would help me make a protection for the next time", he tries to reason, but Hank is hardly convincible this time. 

Nope. He's not gonna risk a civillian's life. Especially not Connor's who probably can't even understand what he's asking for. Sure, there were no cases of android agression towards humans but noone can be sure whether it stays this way.

"How do you know that there will be a next time?" Hank asks groaning as he tries to push back some locks that fall into his eyes.

"Isn't it always a next one when it comes to terrorism? My reseach says that they usually continue the activity until they reach the set goal. "

"What if they don't have a goal?

Connor looks suprised like Hank just told him that the sky is not always blue and the grass is not always green because they can be fucking black and yellow, it's just the world's default setting that's usually universally accepted and because he thinks that the thing work one way he can be easily proven wrong.

Sometimes the only goal is creating chaos and that can fucking dangerous.

"Some men just want to watch the world burn, kid", Hank says and something click in Conor's expression.

"You are quoting Batman?"

The lieutenant feels busted for a moment but he also enjoys the way Connor doesn't understand how the lieutenant can think of popculture while discussing a quite serious issue.

"There's some millennial humour for you", Hank chuckles. "But the answer's still no.

"Please, Lieutenant. Can I..."

Hank sees the puppy eyes coming to surface on the other man's face and he needs to stop it before he weakens by them so he stands up and interrupts him.

"Connor, just no. I can't put you in a dangerous situation. That's highly unprofessional."

"Drinking and fucking in a bar's bathroom is also highly unprofessional."

Hank is convinced that Connor's goal is to kill him as soon as possible by giving him a fucking heartattack and this time he almost succeds. Hank leans on the desk catching his swirling mind as he imagines the smooth white thights in front of his eyes reflecting the orange lighthing of the bathroom and he chokes on his frustration as he tries to recollect himself.

The damn fucker doesn't even look regretful. He just look plain determined. 

Fuck.

"Alright, I'm telling you the way you can understand: you have to reach level 15 to unlock this mission", he says gritting his teeth."This is not a question for discussion. I'm not risking your life."

Before Connor can say anything hell decides to break loose. Hank hears a siren out in the streets, probably a patroling police unit as it heads to the crime scene and then he watches Fowler as he emerges from his office, face read like a tomato as he shouts something.

Hank can't hear it properly because his mind shouts: FUCK FUCK FUCK. Connor just jumps to his feet ready to change the world but Hank stops him by grasping his wrist.

The kid looks back at him face full of sturdiness and something collapses in Hank's own determination.

"Fuck."


	5. Process

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor traumatizes himself.

Next thing Hank knows is that they are in the fucking car - and not fucking in the car which would be an undoubtedly more enjoyable act - and Hank is driving trough the city like a maniac he is at fucking eight o'clock in the evening with Connor by his side looking all tense and nervous. Hank still feels the smooth skin tingling on the end of his fingers from the grab on the kid's wrist.

"I said you stay", he tried one last time holding back Connor from leaving the bullpen, but he knew he was lost before Connor choked out a word.

"Alright. I'm not going with you then", he said confidently like never before. "I'm going alone."

And now Hank just groans because goddamit, this day couldn't have been messier and he really doesn't need the murder of an innocent kid on his shoulder if anything happens, but he truly believes that Connor would have gone alone if he didn't put him on the passenger seat closing the door on him.

Sure, at least he has a gun and as long as Connor stays behind nothing bad can happen. Right?

Fowler gives them all the info again trough Connor's smartphone so they can find the location of the terrorist attack. It's a CyberLife business center, one that is always full of well-suited buraeaucrats and fancy secretaries, half of them being android.

Hank is cussing even before they see the scene. The building's system is probably shut down and everything is dark, not one light working in twenty stories. Only the headlight of the police cars makes it visible how a few unleashed android run in and out of the front door tripping over each other, sometimes punching the others with a massive blow. Gunshots clear the door, bodies and blue blood splatter all over the place and Hank's guts twist in his body.

Nobody pushes forward. There are only a four police cars and just a few qualified man waiting for backup for a tower full of crazy androids.

Connor doesn't look good either. He is startled like a hunting dog finally catching the smell of a grizzly bear. So eager to finally find what it's looking for but still afraid of searching for it.

"It seems really nasty", Hank murmurs parking the car and Connor finally looks at him with those big brown eyes.

"Are those...", he chokes on the sentence.

"Yeah. Androids. Like a fucking fight club."

Hank doesn't want to see the pain on the other man's face but he's also very shitty at comforting others so he just coughs as he reaches for the handler of the car's door. He doesn't understand why Connor looks personally offended and threatened by the sight of malfunctioning androids but he also doesn't understand the perks of being a computer literate person so he doesn't question the silent cry of the younger man's movements. It must be a hacker thing, being emotionally bounded to those artificial creatures.

"Alright, I"m going to ask what's going on exactly. You stay here til I'm back", he orders the other and steps out of the car.

It seems that Connor can't even hear him looking so distracted with the scene going down in front of his eyes.

"They don't attack humans, right?

"No, but..."

Before Hank could finish the sentence Connor is out of the car too.

"For fuck sake, Connor, get back here!"

He ignores Hank's call and head towards the tower.

The chaos is already too huge, scared and confused police officers all around the place with yellow cordons to secure the place from the civillians. Connor doesn't hesitate when he is pulled back by one of the struggling cop, he just pushes forward until he can tear himself from the graps and heads to the entrance. He hears threatening words and screaming from a woman behind and for a moment he's not completely sure whether it was a good decision to run into a building full of short circuiting unpredictable androids.

And the view, it is almost too much when he enters. Blue blood is pooling around his shoes coloring it into bright colors and broken body parts are laying all around the floor. A few standing android is crying blue tears as something in their hardware must have been broken. They mostly stand still staring at one point on the walls liquid dropping down their chin as silent cries leave their half-open mouth. They look completely different than the ones outside. They are calm, silent, like they are waiting for something.

Connor freezes for a moment. All the cogs in his head start working at the same time blurring his vision by the lack of concentration. He needs to get focused. He needs to swallow the panic. Not like he has been any good at controlling his emotions all his life but right know so much more depends on it than just his fragile mental health. So he needs to try.

He steps forward. The androids stay still. Something in his mind is ticking. One, two, three.

He steps again. Still nothing. The andoids keep on standing crying blue blood trough their glassy artificial eyes and Connor finally moves forward in a good pace finding the stairs. He tries to ignore all the mess around him.

He knows what to look for it's just that he's not sure where to look for it yet.

At the third floor then he finds something. A girl is crawling under a derk, head is muddy with blue blood, his blonde hair sticking to her face with the lumpy liquid. Connor would simply leave her but the he hears her breathing. Androids don't breath. Androids never do anything that can simulate something so confidential, something that makes them so similar to real human beings. Androids don't need air.

Connor stops and listens to the quiet hitch again. He hears her sobbing, he realizes as he steps closer. Every single bit of muscle in his body is protesting against the move but he needs to find answers so he swallows all the fear and try to conquer what's keeping him back.

The girl doesn't notice him, she just lays motionless, eyes trying to focus. She hears the step though and as a startled deer she jumps a little. Connor stops.

"Who is there?", she asks, voice trembling with wild fear.

Connor lowers himself to the ground as he puts his hands beside his ears so if she can make out the lines at least she will know that he doesn't mean any harm.

"It's alright. It's fine", he calms her a little bit unsure.

He's usually at the recieving end of all the nonsense people tend to jabber in strained moments like this and he hardly believes the nonsense people are so keen on to tell. It mostly works when his brother is telling all the nonsense and secretly Connor admires him for it just because he knows he would never be able to tell the lies with a rational tone the way Niles always does.

And now when it comes to this Connor realizes how hopelessly terrible he is at comforting other people. He's not very good at creating small lies and most of the time he can't see the reason for it as he assumes that everyone has at least some common sense to know that all the sentences are just for their own convenience. And god, he feels truly sick of telling everyone the sweet lies instead of making them face the truth.

But now he know that this must be the only way. He doesn't want to make the situation any more painful than it already is.

"I'm here to help you", he says as he tries to approach the scared android.

She seems to be functional enough to understand what he's saying. She just can't seem to concentrate at one point as if she got blinded by lack of light. Connor knows it's not likely as most of the android models are equipped with night vision optical unit.

"My system...", she screeches voice distorted completely. "It's overwriting... overwrite... itself.

"It's alright. I'm here to help", Connor lies as he reaches for her hand.

She seems to understand curling her fingers around the reached out palm and she grasps it as if it could mean anything. Connor doesn't understand it but he's sure that people feel better when it comes to physical contact to that's what he does. He lets the android dig her plastic nails into his skin and takes her head in his lap.

"I am scared", she whispers, her voice starting to stabilize. "I can't see. I can't see anything. I don't want to die. I don't."

"You won't die. I'm going to help you", Connor tries to calm her down again altough he doesn't understand why.

It's not his mission to make her death smoother, easier, he shouldn't really care. But somehow empathy gets his fingers around his adam's apple and every time he tries to be harsh he feels the little parts digging their way deeper, choking him.

"Can you help me? Please. I need you to help me too, so I can stop this", Connor asks.

"My eyes... They hurt. And these noises..."

Connor can't hear a thing only sirens in the distance and agitated crowds demanding explanations. Nothing extraordinary, just life going trough a confusing phase.

Then someone is making big steps on the stars behind his back and he turns to see Hank climbing his way to the floor. He looks exhausted and mad but then he takes a glance at Connor and his expression turns sour.

"Fuck, kid", he mutters, but then he doesn't move just waits for the other man to do something.

Connor then turns back to the android. He knows he doesn't have much time left.

"Do you know where the mainframe is? I need to see the computer that creates your wireless connection", he stutters and the android's face falls into a silent fear.

"The connection? Everyone's hurting like me?", she cries. "I need to find Kenny, I need to, I need."

Her voice cracks again high pitched screech coming out of her mouth and Connor is panicking because he doesn't know who Kenny is and he feels the situation slipping out of his fingers like a rope leaving burning scars behind.

"Who is Kenny?"

"I need to find him, please, I'm begging you".

"Hey, hey, it's alright", Hank decides to step in and Connor looks up to him as he lowers himself next to Connor letting the jeans soak up the blue blood from the floor.

He looks at Connor like he wants to say something but maybe it's not the time for that and not the place so he focuses his attention on the girl laying in front of him.

"Kenny's alright. He's fine, don't worry."

"I need to tell him I love him", she cries, her blood pooling around him and it's bad, she's almost completely out of it.

Connor feels the liuqid sticking his jeans to his skin. It's a wet and cold feeling and he doesn't know how to operate, everything is strange and unexpected and he has more important things to do so he doesn't understand why he's still sitting next to a dying android. Her hands are retracting revealing the white plastic underneath the artificial skin and Connor keeps on holding it, his fingers tangled with the white ones.

"He's fine, believe me, he's alright", Connor lies.

"It's...It's..."

Her voice goes away at that moment again like her lungs are exploding in her chest, a little screech is all they hear leaving her gaping mouth. Connor lets go of the head from his lap, the robotic irises fall in their bed turning her eyes totally white.

He is unsure what to do. He's sitting on the floor, dead machine laying in front of him as he feels Hank trying to pull him to his feet grasping his jacket but his feet are not obeying and he just stick to the floor for a few minutes. The lieutenant stops after three unsuccessful attempt and then just lowers himself next to Connor looking into the brown eyes, making him focus on one thing at the time.

And oh, Connor needs that because his mind is rushing, ideas running in and out of his brain and he greets the intensifying feeling as an old friend so he really needs to hold on to something. First comes the panic, dry and sour, crushing every single bit of determination in his joints, making him feel like the world is made out of bread around him, crumbling every moment just a little bit, one by one. Then the trembling follows and the nausea. He's glad there's nothing inside of him that could come back but it doesn't make the situation any better.

He reaches out to hold Hank's hand, taking deep breaths trying to concentrate.

"Connor, look at me. Hey, kid, just watch me", he murmurs.

"She's dead", Connor says, fingers curling around Hanks palm.

Maybe he's holding it to thightly, because the Lieutenant makes a painful expression.

"Concentrate on me", Hank turns Connor towards himself. "You have a panic attack."

Connor knows the words for it. Of course, he's experienced many times before but sticking a name to it again and again makes it even more real than it should be. He swallows as if it could just bury away the feeling deep in his guts like it's a bitter pill that is stuck in his throat. But it's much more and Hank is far too eager to leave when he needs more time. Just a little more.

But the sirens are going off and he hears people flooding the stairs in the building like they are vultures finally able to tear apart the dead prays on the ground. That is the moment Connor realizes that all the androids on the floor has stopped moving, their eyes turning back only showing the white part.

"They are all dead", he says quietly.

"We need to get out of here", Hank decides and this time Connor doesn't put up a fight.

They leave the building together and somewhere in the way Connor even gets a blanket. It's thirium blue as his blood soaked jeans and shirt.

 

 

"Just so you know I'm fucking mad as hell, Connor", Hank tells him in a voice he can't quite put into the context because it's calming and deep but Connor can feel the unapproving sharp of it on his tongue. And it tastes disgusting.

"I know."

"You could have died."

"I'm aware."

They are sitting at the station, it's almost midnight and Connor really wants to go home. But he can't.  
He needs to wait for Hank taking care of all the mess he made with paper work and then maybe he will be able to leave the DPD and then maybe Hank will be able to keep his job. He knows it will cost a lot of boot-licking and even more favours so just they can say Connor was nothing more than an unfortunate eyewitness.

He should be grateful. He really should, Hank risked a lot by taking him to the scene even for only a quick glance and with Fowler's approval. But all he can feel right now is just the quiet numbness of the empty bullpen.

"What were you thinking? You didn't even have a gun", Hank grunts as he circles back to Connor sitting at his desk.

He still has the blanket, fingers grasping the soft material. It keeps him on the ground, chains him to the reality. At least that's what he believes and what he believes is all he has in his mind right now. Between the screaming and confusion it is something he can find some clearity in.

"I didn't die. I'm alright."

Hanks stops in his pacing and stares at Connor for an unbelieving moment. He looks down to the man as if he's going to be scolding a naughty kid who put toothpaste on every handler of the house's doors and for a moment Connor's guilt sinks to another level. It's the pitiful puppy level who got kicked in the stomach and Hank can't take it. He's not qualified to take this kind of reaction so he goes forward with the only thing he knows well enough: anger.

"Are you sure about that?" he grumbles. "Cause let me tell you, you look like shit."

"Physically I am completely unharmed", Connor manages to force the words out. It's really not convincing though and he probabl knows it because he sinks lower on his chair ignoring Hank's blaming eyes. "I just... feel like shit."

Hank fears that the Connor is going to vomit or do something even worse that can ruin the carpet if he keeps the volume of his anger as high as he actually wants to. But also he feels a bit remorseful as he realizes that the kid just saw someone - or something - die for the first time in his life. And to be honest it was fucking paralyzing even though Hank had seen some nasty shit in the 30 years of being on duty. But a tower full of humanlike creatures bleeding blue liquid trough their eyes - yeah, that was a tough cookie.

"Yeah, that was a lot to me too", he says, voice more tender than Connor deserves as he crouches in front of the other. "It's not everyday we see an android slaughterhouse."

"I am not sure how to handle it."

Hank doesn't know either. After more than fifty years of experience even he is quite shitty at interpreting and understanding his own feelings, so at least he's not suprised by Connor's desperate voice and tears in the soft brown eyes. The kid must be fucking a stranger to this kind of vulnerability not knowing what is the next step to process what happened so Hank just does what he thinks every normal human being would do. He gives a hug.

"Hey, it's alright. Come here", he mumbles into Connor's shoulder as he scoops him to his chest. He doesn't move first so naturally Hank panics a bit but then he feels the frigid movements as two arms closes around his back. "Is it okay?"

"Yes", Connor murmurs, hands stroking the wrinkles of the leather jacket.

"Just think about something calming like... uh, algorythms and numbers."

Hank hears a weak laugh and hell that does some shit to his stomach because he feels like a teenage boy again with his crush smiling at him from the other side of the football field. It's just somehow more intense and less horny. It is warm, and soft and he really wants to hear it more, even though he knows he should just forget it all.

Of course it also doesn't help that Hank is completely aware that Connor is attracted to him like a moth to a lamp. The bar scene was a dead giveaway even though it was just a constructed opportunity to fuck the police and then fuck with the police. Still, Connor chose the dirtiest and probably hardest way of getting the information he needed which must has its own reasons. So yeah, even though Hank knows he was used, he also knows it was done that way because Connor wasn't strong enough to resist his desires.

So Hank should be. He should be strong enough because they are in the middle of an obscene case and they really have no time for fragile romances.

"That is you method of calming people?", Connor breaks the silence, but he stays close.

"Is it working?" Hank asks and hopes that his voice doesn't betray his mind. Connor needs this moment. He should be able to sacrifice his daily self-hatred for something purer.

"Yeah."

"Then shut up", he grumbles and pats Connor's hair to sign his goodbye as his spine is too old for leaning forward like this and also the emotional baggage is getting more uncomfortable.

Connor backs away with a calm smile on his face but his eyes are avoiding Hank's.

"I want to go home now." he breathes.

Hank feels a tremble running down on his nape, and stands up to go and find the car keys, damn Fowler and his strategy to make him wait until he's tired enough not to be able to reason with him. But then again, the man has this strange kind of talent to interrupt when it is least wanted.

"Hank, if you could let that traumatized boyfriend of yours go and talk to me for a moment I'd consider not firing your ass immediately", he shouts head popping up from his office and Hank is completely lost by the shock of the Captain calling Connor his boyfriend.

And by the shock how much it doesn't sound bad.

"Alright. Going to battle. Nothing new", he mumbles, fixing the jacket on his shoulders. "I'll talk to him then I'll take you home. Good?"

Connor remains numb, only watching his fingers tangles into each other.

"Okay", he nods and Hank turns around.


End file.
